


He's a Jerk But You Love Him

by TheGreatCatsby



Series: Mom Knew a Man [3]
Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: quicksilver - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 13:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1746521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatCatsby/pseuds/TheGreatCatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“He's not,” Erik said, “my son.” </p>
<p>“Unless the definition of son has changed--”</p>
<p>“It was a mistake.” </p>
<p>“Your 'mistake' has stolen nearly the entire supplies of candy from the four nearest grocery stores,” Charles said. “He's real, no matter how much you don't want him to be.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's a Jerk But You Love Him

It wasn't until after Charles had gotten Pietro and several other students settled in that he activated Cerebro again. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for. 

He could see Erik walking through a European city, London by the looks of it, and he projected himself walking alongside him. It still hadn't become entirely natural to him to project himself in the wheelchair, even though he was always in the wheelchair now. And, anyway, it made him almost as tall as Erik. 

“Erik,” Charles said. 

Erik glared at him. “What are you doing here?” 

“Preventing you from doing something rash,” Charles said. “We have to talk.” 

“About what?” Erik asked. 

“About Pietro,” Charles said. 

Erik waved a hand, as though that would get Charles to disappear. 

“What did you say to him?” Charles persisted. 

“I don't want to talk about this,” Erik said. 

“He's your son,” Charles pointed out. 

“He's not,” Erik said, “my son.” 

“Unless the definition of son has changed--”

“It was a mistake.” 

“Your 'mistake' has stolen nearly the entire supplies of candy from the four nearest grocery stores,” Charles said. “He's real, no matter how much you don't want him to be.” 

Erik brooded in silence for a few moments. Charles let him, because Erik would brood whether he said anything or not. 

“You just want me back at the mansion,” Erik said. 

“I want you to take responsbility for something,” Charles said, “instead of making me do it for you. You're always passing the consequences of your actions to someone else.” 

“I am not,” Erik said. 

“How many times have you denied being in the wrong?” Charles asked. Before Erik could answer he said, “All of them. Every time. Hell freezes over when Erik Lehnsherr apologizes. The world ends. You don't like feeling guilty, and you certainly despise being wrong.”

“What about you?” Erik snapped. “Getting inside peoples' heads and pretending to know all the answers. You don't. You make things worse. Why do you think Raven left? Why do you think I did?” 

“I'm sorry,” Charles said, quietly. “But a relationship is made by two people. And it is destroyed by both of them.” 

Erik stopped walking, but Charles had already disappeared. 

**

“You look sad,” Hank said when he'd come in to talk to Charles about the general state of the students and possibly recruiting more professors who weren't Charles. 

Charles forced a smile. It looked horrific. “Everything is fine.” 

“You're really bad at lying, you know that?” Hank said. “Pietro said you were using Cerebro earlier.” 

“Pietro should learn to mind his own business,” Charles said, and then realized how immature that sounded. Hank was smirking at him. “I wanted to talk to Erik. How is Pietro, anyway?” 

“Annoying,” Hank said. Charles gave him a stern look, one that he still hadn't quite perfected, and Hank added, “He doesn't really stick around long enough to talk to me but he's charming the pants off the other students. Not literally. I think. Anyway, he's sent several letters back home and apparently he told everyone that Erik Lehnsherr is a huge asshole and they shouldn't talk to him.” 

“Why'd he say that?” Charles asked. “Did he just tell them that, out of nowhere?” 

“They've been talking about him,” Hank said. “Wondering if he'd ever come and teach. Or just marveling at how much power it takes to move a stadium.” 

“More like stupidity,” Charles muttered. 

“That's what Pietro said,” Hank said. “He also wants to see me turn blue, apparently.” 

“Did you?” Charles asked. 

Hank gave him a look that said “what do you think?” 

“If Erik happens to drop by,” Charles said, “which I have a feeling he might just to spite me, make sure that the students don't see him. And keep him away from Pietro until I've talked to him. I don't think he listened the first time.” 

Hank nodded and gave Charles a look of pity just before leaving. “You try too hard.” 

“I don't think I'm trying hard enough,” Charles said as Hank closed the door behind him. 

**

It wasn't that nobody liked Erik. Erik's mission in life seemed to be making people not like him, even when he wanted them to. He was just terrible at relationships with other people, and at admitting he had some problems that needed dealing with. 

That said, after Pietro's outburst Charles had the feeling that nobody at the school liked Erik, which hadn't been his intention when he'd started it. He knew Erik would take offense to this if he found out, and would blame Charles, and that was all the more reason for Erik to stay away from the students. 

Pietro had taken to studiously avoiding Charles when he could help it. He would talk to the other teachers, but not Charles. Never Charles. And Charles could sense from him a certain guardedness whenever he was around. Probably because he was anticipating being asked about his encounter with Erik. 

And he'd be right. Charles wanted to talk to him exactly about that. 

At this point Charles wasn't sure who was more frustrating: Pietro or Erik. But this made him see all the more clearly how they were related, even if they didn't want to be. 

A week had gone by when the door to Charles' office flew open and Charles looked up, expecting one of his students and instead finding Erik storming into the room and towering over him, arms folded across his chest. 

“Why are your students giving me dirty looks?” he demanded. 

“Oh, shit!” Hank appeared just inside the threshold to the office. “I tried to stop him but--”

“It's fine,” Charles said. “Just close the door.” Hank did so, carefully, as if trying not to disturb a bomb. 

“I knew you'd do something like this,” Erik continued once they were alone, furious. “Turn them against me. Make me the enemy. Tell them that I'm wrong.” 

“You are wrong,” Charles said, “but that's not--”

“Why? Why would you make them hate me? Is that what this school is about? To gain yourself a following in order to prove me wrong?” 

“Not everything is about you,” Charles said. 

A chuckle, which came from neither Charles nor Erik, made them both look around. Then, “But I think he wishes it could be,” said Pietro from the corner closest to Charles. He was leaning against the wall, mirroring Erik, his arms folded across his chest. He cut a much less imposing figure with the goggles and the silver jacket, but the effect was still shocking given that Charles hadn't even known he was there a few seconds ago. 

“I didn't call you,” Charles started, but Pietro interrupted. 

“I know, but it's him,” he said, throwing a hard look at Erik. “What's he doing here?” 

“He's come to yell at me,” Charles said, “if I'm interpreting this correctly, for making my students hate him.” 

“Oh,” Pietro said, waving a hand, “that's not his fault. That's mine.” 

Erik didn't look at him. He continued to glare at Charles as he growled, “Why?” 

“Because this is my life,” Pietro said, “and you don't want to be part of it, even though it's your fault. I thought you'd have figured that out the second I said it was me.” 

“You're lying,” Erik said. “Charles put you up to this.” 

“Charles is wondering why you're looking at Charles while taking to Pietro,” Charles said with a sigh. He felt like the mere presence of Pietro and Erik in the same room aged him by the minute. 

“I mean, Professor X has every reason to hate you and to make everyone else think you're a massive jerkface, which you are, but he doesn't because he's in love or something,” Pietro said. “And yeah, why aren't you looking at me?” 

“You told the school I'm an ass,” Erik said. 

“You told me to go away,” Pietro said. Suddenly Erik's vision was filled with Pietro's be-goggled face because Pietro had suddenly moved in front of him, blocking Charles from view. “Look at me. I'm your son. Just admit it.” 

“I--” 

“Didn't want a son, I know,” Pietro said, and Erik couldn't even deny that was what he'd been about to say. The kid was too sharp for his own good. “But I'm here. What're you gonna do about it?” 

“I don't--” 

“Have to do anything, yeah,” Pietro interrupted. “We all know you don't like taking responsibility for things. I heard that talk, too,” he added with an apologetic glance back at Charles. “I do actually like keeping on top of things. Knowing things. Things get boring when I don't know them. I know about you but either you're really slow at getting to know people or you really don't want to know me, and I think it's the second one.” 

“Pietro--” 

“You're just jealous because my powers are infinitely cooler,” Pietro added. 

Charles felt Pietro's nervous energy spike, along with a sense of fear. “You should let him talk,” he suggested gently. 

“I,” said Erik, “am...not good at taking responsibility.” 

“No shit,” Pietro said, and Charles hissed “Shhh!” 

Erik gritted his teeth and added, “I sent you here because I care about you. What I do is dangerous, even if it is right--”

“In your mind,” Charles muttered. 

“--and,” Erik continued, raising his voice a little, “Charles can help you learn to use your powers, and live with them. I am not a teacher.” 

“For once I agree with Erik,” Charles said. 

“I'm sorry,” Erik added, his voice quite high now, “that I can't do more for you.” 

Pietro stared at him for a moment, his face hard to read. Erik waited, too, and Charles could see how hard it was for him to just stand there after having admitted these things. 

Then Pietro grinned widely and said, “I wanted to hear you admit it.” 

“For god's sake,” Erik hissed, and then he nearly jumped as the door slammed behind him. Charles grinned up at Erik, who looked as though he wanted to flip over his chair as retaliation for this whole thing. But the door slammed again and Pietro's arms were around Erik, who squirmed. 

Then Pietro let go and said, “So, how many spoons can you stick to your body?” 

“How old are you?” Erik snapped. He clearly didn't like being asked about spoons being stuck to him. Possibly because Charles had done that very thing, or attempted to, while drunk years ago. 

“Well, you missed my childhood,” Pietro said. Then he turned to Charles. “And are you gonna get a haircut anytime soon? No offense, Prof, but the abandoned look doens't suit you.” He smiled winningly at them both. “I feel better. Don't you?” 

“Um,” said Charles. Erik sighed. 

“You two really need to sort yourselves out,” Pietro added. “I mean, you,” he pointed at Erik, “look like you want to have hate sex with the Professor and you,” he gestured at Charles, “look like a kicked puppy every time he opens his mouth. Can you both just...not? Because it's really disturbing how much you two don't talk about how much you need each other, and then you both act like idiots and you just need to, I don't know, talk or something.” 

Silence greeted these words. 

“I'm your professor,” Charles said. “Not your family. This is between me and Erik.” 

“Erik's my dad,” Pietro said, “and you're kind of like my surrogate dad since Erik thinks you'll teach me how to be a functioning mutant of society. So it kind of involves me because you're my sort-of parents and I can't just let you keep being this stupid around each other. I can see a million ways to fix your problems and you two are just sitting there staring at each other. It's getting ridiculous.” 

Charles caught Erik's eye. He looked almost horrified. 

“I'll leave you to it, then,” Pietro said, clapping his hands together. Then he was gone. Or at least, he wasn't visible. Charles wasn't sure he could trust his vision ever again. 

“Parents,” Erik said, slowly. 

“I hope not,” Charles said. 

Erik looked shell-shocked. “I need...time. Yes.” 

“Of course,” Charles said. He couldn't quite hide the disappointment in his voice. Erik wasn't looking at him anymore. “Another time, then.”

Erik nodded, distractedly, and turned around. Charles stifled a gasp and clapped a hand over his mouth and waited until the door was closed to burst into laughter. 

There were seven spoons and one fork stuck to Erik's back.


End file.
